The Touch of a Friend
by Rose G
Summary: Some short missing scenes from Fellowship of the Ring, concerning the friendship between Aragorn and Legolas. Chapter 3 now up.
1. The Doors of Durin

A Guiding Hand   
By Rose G  
  
Disclaimer - All these characters belong to Tolkien, as does Moria. I haven't made any money out of it, and if I had done do you really think I'd still be living in freezing cold Cornwall? Not likely.  
  
A/N - This is not slash, although some people might choose to read it as such. Any flames will just make me think you're related to a certain Balrog.  
  
  
Legolas planted his feet firmly on the rocky, uneven ground and looked accusingly at Aragorn and Gandalf, who was holding his staff to the Moria doors in a rather threatening manner. 'No way, Aragon. I am not going through Moria, ever.'  
  
The Ranger rolled his eyes and glanced at Gimli, who was pacing in his excitement to enter the mines. 'Legolas, I have already been through Moria once and it terrifies me, yet I am prepared to follow Gandalf wherever he may lead us. He is the leader of this company and Frodo is the Ring Bearer, so you should follow them without question. If you are truly afraid of Moria, all of us would excuse you, for fear is something that we have all known. But your fear must not stand in way of the quest. And anyway, Gandalf may yet be unable to open the Doors of Durin, and then you would have worried for no reason.'  
  
Gandalf paused from his examination of the Door and glared at Aragorn. 'Silence yourself, Ranger. I have just worked out how to open these Doors. Now turn Bill lose, and get that Elf up here.'  
  
The fellowship watched silently as the great Doors swung open, except for Gimli, who moved to the front of the group anxious to see the halls of his forefathers. Boromir, with a strange smile on his face, turned to Aragorn as the Hobbits and Gandalf stepped into the mines.  
  
'Aragorn, we could always leave Legolas here if he does not wish to go through Moria. He could take that pony of Sam's back to Rivendell with him. If he is afraid, it is not for us to lead him through Moria to his almost certain death, and indeed I would go with him if he wishes to turn back.' He then lept forward into Moria as Aragorn stepped towards him, not looking particularly kindly.  
  
Legolas shifted his weight restlessly, gathering his courage and almost glad of Boromir's scornful words because they strengthen his quaking heart. Dark mines were no places for Elves who were used to wandering under starry skies beneath forests of golden leaves and longed for the salt tang of the sea crashing onto silver shores, yet he knew that he had to pass through this shadowy underworld to whatever end it came. He had no choice.  
  
'Come, Legolas. I also do not wish to go through Moria, but since we must, let us go together. The others are waiting.' Aragorn spoke gently, gesturing to where Boromir could be seen rounding the bend in the passage at a run, bringing up the rear of the group.  
  
'All right, but let it be known that only evil can come from our choice of route, and I am afraid - desperately afraid of Moria.' Legolas sounded more troubled than Aragorn had ever heard him in the score or more of years that had known each other closely.   
  
Aragorn despite his fear, smiled at the Elf, pleased because they were alone together, however briefly. It was hard for him to keep up a pretence of bravery in a group like the fellowship, but Legolas understood his weakness and did not judge him. 'Come on, Legolas. Elven Prince and Elendil's heir or not, Gandalf will have us carrying his packs for the rest of the quest and take our pipe weed into the bargain if we delay much longer.' He unsheathed Anduril, and reached out a hand to the Elf, who was still backing away from the Doors, glancing over to where Bill was trotting sure footed towards Rivendell and freedom.  
  
Legolas sighed heavily, and stepped forward reluctantly, trusting in his friend. They walked slowly up to the Doors, both very glad of the other's presence.   
  
'Gandalf will wait for us, Legolas, so we need not hurry unduly. Enough for him that we consent to go this way.' Aragorn ducked his head slightly to enter the Doors, with Legolas huddling close to him, afraid of the pitch darkness that seemed to have no end and the narrow walls that seemed to close in on him.  
  
'I hate this place, Strider.' Legolas used Aragorn's nickname in an attempt at a jest, which was somewhat spoiled by his curses as he straightened up and met the stone roof with his head.   
  
Aragorn did not laugh; he was too busy trying to work out exactly where Gandalf and the others were. His eyes had adapted quickly to the dark and now he could see the darkness held fewer terrors than his imaginings, and he was also comforted because Legolas, closer than many friends to him, was there.  
  
It seemed an eternity to Legolas, although in reality it was only a few minutes before they met the others, and he was aware that if it wasn't for Aragorn he would never have got through there. The Ranger stepped silently along the path, Anduril held somewhat awkwardly in his left hand as he walked and his right hand just brushing against Legolas', guiding the Elf through the darkness.   
  
When the path darkened even more, as the thin gleam of light from the Doors ceased, Legolas felt his sweat turn chill on his skin. Aragorn rested his arm around Legolas' shoulders, holding the lithe body of the Elf close against his, wanting nothing save the touch of another body to drive away the darkness that touched him as well as the panicking Elf. Never had he seen Legolas so uneasy.  
  
But when they caught up with the others and Gandalf called them, they moved suddenly apart, aware that none of them would have understood their almost animal like for contact in the dark. And Aragorn brought up the rear of the group with Legolas walking blindly by his side, and they snatched a glance in the darkness, a promise that they would always be together, no matter what paths they should tread.  
  
  
  
  
  
Please review this, I don't think it's my best, but I was in a hurry. I'll edit this soon, so check back in a few days. I'm not sure that this all fits in with the book, but I've lost my copy and couldn't check up on it. About Middle Earth Quotes, FF Net reckoned it was a list and it disappeared to regions unknown. I'll have it back soon, in a non-list format. 


	2. Sleepless

The Touch of A Friend Chapter 2

By Rose G

A/N -This chapter concerns Legolas and Aragorn during their first night in Moria. Again, you could take this as slash if you want, but it isn't meant to be.

Aragorn looked around for Legolas as they prepared to make their fist camp in Moria. The Elf has seemed unaffected by the journey, walking silently in the middle of the Hobbits and yet the Ranger had long ago realised that Legolas disliked the darkness. The others seemed almost at ease in the mines, apart from Boromir and Aragorn did not care over much about the Man from Minas Tirith.

Gandalf offered to take the first watch, but it was Aragorn who ended up pacing the outside of the group on watch, never daring to take his hand from the jagged stone of the walls for fear of losing his way in the pitch dark that his eyes seemed incapable of adjusting to. It had taken only a few minutes for the rest of them to fall asleep, and he could hear their breathing, magnified by some freak of the building, and Legolas muttering to himself.

He walked slowly over to the Elf, grimacing at the stagnant water dripping from the roof, which made the ground so difficult to walk over safely. 'Legolas? Is anything wrong?'

The Elf made no answer and now the Ranger was close enough to see him, he saw that he was laying looking up at the roof, blue eyes wide open in order to see as much as he could through the gloom. His fair hair was spread in a fan around his head, and his body was only covered with a light blanket, yet Aragorn could see the sweat glistening on his pale skin. His breath was harsh, rasping as though he had run a long race.

'Legolas?'

'I cannot sleep in this accursed Dwarf hole' Legolas whispered.

'Why? I have been through Moria before, and although the memory is still evil, I am not afraid, for what troubled me here before is gone forever. Orcs may still be here, but they are nothing that we can not cope with. What are you afraid of?' Aragorn kept his voice un-judgemental, knowing how the Elf was most likely to react if he thought he was being questioned. 

'The dark. I am drowning, choking in this tide of darkness. It strikes terror into my very heart and soul. Happily, I would brave the snow of Caradhas alone if it meant I could leave this dreadful place.'

Aragorn crouched down alongside the Elf, deciding that there was little chance of anything creeping up unheard on the stony paths. Anduril clattered loudly on the stones making the others start in their sleep and Legolas jumped as he hadn't seen what the Ranger was doing.

'To take the paths over Caradhas would be death, my friend, and darkness, however frightening it may be, cannot hurt. There is no need to fear it.' Aragorn felt shame rise in him, aware that the dark bothered him almost as much as it bothered Legolas, but he was not going to admit it. 

'Aragorn, I fear it and that I cannot change. Nights are long in Moria, and I am weary from the march, yet I cannot rest. More of the same lies ahead, and I will endure it as best as I can but I thank you for your words, useless to me though they are.' He drew one hand over his face.

'Why should you endure this alone, Legolas?' The Ranger spoke softly, his firm voice echoing slightly, and he clasped Legolas's hand in his. For both of them, the darkness and fear lifted at the contact.

Legolas looked at him, catching a dim glimpse of the stern commanding face half hidden by shaggy grey flecked hair and smiled briefly. He felt some of the panic leave him, and his breath came easier than before, although he did not speak to Aragorn. The pair had met for the first time at the Council of Elrond, but great friendships can be formed in less time than they had spent together.

Aragorn felt Legolas relax and spoke in an undertone to him. 'I am on watch, Legolas, so sleep free from fear while I stay by your side. Friendship can conquer even the most dreadful fears and you need fear no dark shadow while I am here.'

Legolas exhausted by the day's march and by fear was already asleep, his hand still in Aragorn's, who looked down at his sleeping friend and smiled.

I wasn't going to write a second chapter for this, but I got several requests for one, so I wrote it. In response to one question, it's based on the book, not the film. Please review, this is the only Legolas fic I've wrote, and I'm not sure if I've got it quite right. 


	3. Together

The Touch of a Friend Chapter 3

Rose G

A/N- A 3rd chapter as requested by several people. This is NOT intended to be slash, which is why I have no intention of changing the rating in response to one review. 

The scream echoed off the stone walls of Moria, ringing in their ears as the wizard plunged to his death. Even the hideous screaming call of the Balrog was drowned out by it. It was a scream of unbearable loss, of grief for the life that he had lived and loved and the friends he was leaving behind. Mutely, Boromir and Aragorn looked at each other, the Ranger's face bewildered and terrified, the other Man more in control of himself and so more alert to the danger of lingering in grief. 

'Come, Aragorn, we must leave him. There is nothing to be gained by staying here. Hurry.' And with that the heavily built Man of Gondor lept away with the hobbits and Gimli behind him. In a small group they bolted towards the eons old steps of Moria - Kingdom of the Dwarves, battleground for Orcs and now a tomb. 

Aragorn stood still, Anduril still lifted as though he had forgotten what to do with it. In bitter mockery of his grief, a ray of sun filtered through and touched the wreckage of the bridge where his life had fallen into ruin with the body of his friend. His gaze was fixed on the remains of the bridge, the deep chasm where Gandalf's cry was still echoing in the darkness. Only Legolas remained in the mines now, and he walked softly up to Aragorn, touching him on the arm. Hopelessly, he turned to face the Elf, shaking his head. 'Come, Aragorn.' He pulled the Ranger's arm gently and led him away from the bridge before the Man shied away from the touch. 

Silently, he followed the Elf out of the mine, blinking from the sudden bright light and he glanced back at the shadowy entrance to Moria. The Doors raised high above even his head, fantastically carved and edged by plants even in the midst of winter. To him, it looked like a tomb, a grand elaborate one but a tomb nonetheless, that Gandalf now shared with the Dwarven kings. The others were far ahead, well out of bowshot if any Orcs were foolish enough to still be in the area. 'Aragorn, hurry up. Orcs are still prowling in there, and how are we to know that they do not have another cave troll?' Legolas spoke harshly, more so than he had intended to.

His legs shook and buckled under him as took a few steps at a run, and Legolas had to support the weight of the Ranger as he fell. Shaking, Aragorn got to his feet again and walked on slowly, dizzily, looking older than ever as the wintry, icy cold sunlight burnished his greying hair to molten silver. The Elf slipped his arm around Aragorn's waist in an effort to keep the man on his feet.

Frodo turned to watch them, having heard from Boromir about Aragorn's reluctance to leave and he was surprised to see Legolas and the Ranger walking side by side, the blonde Elf seeming to support the Ranger. It had not been a secret that the pair had been uncomfortable in the darkness of the mines and had spent most of their time together, yet he had supposed that Aragorn would have been happy, even eager to take on the leadership. 

Legolas found that he was weeping as he run unlike Aragorn whose grey eyes showed only a curious blankness. He run hopelessly almost blinded by his own tears and the bright sunlight. Like most of his Silvian kindred, Legolas was unfamiliar with mortals and death was not part of the Elven understanding of the world. Perhaps even more so than mortals, the Firstborn fear what lay beyond the stars. 

'Legolas, whatever you do when you reach the group please do not show your grief. I could not bear to see you suffer alone, so I would come to your side, but I cannot afford to let my attention wander from the Fellowship that I have found myself leader of. Understand that we cannot afford to show weakness or grief in front of them. Later perhaps but not now.' Yet a sob rose in his throat as he spoke.

Without breaking his gait, Legolas reached across and brushed a tear from his friend's face. The Ranger did not flinch from his touch and Legolas heard his protest, his commanding baritone thickened with grief. 'Why, Legolas? Why did he have to die?'

Sam watched as they reached the Fellowship and noted the way that they would not meet each other's eyes. For a long moment they halted, the hobbits weeping openly and Aragorn stood in front of them, long hair blowing over his face. He shivered and raised his sword in salute with bowed head, after the fashion of the Men of Gondor. 'Farewell, Gandalf. Farewell, my friend.'

As they began their journey towards Lothorien; Legolas dropped back to where Aragorn was bringing up the rear of the group. As in Moria, their eyes meet briefly and the silent promise they had made there was renewed in those grief-stricken glances. A promise that no matter where the road might lead them, no matter what they might face, they would be together, there for the other.

There, I've written chapter 3, and if anyone would like chapter 4, it's already written and typed. I'm just waiting for a few nice reviews. Hint, hint.


	4. Hurting

The Touch of a Friend Chapter 4

Rose G

Legolas raised his head from the wooden boards of the talan, looking around him in the starlit midnight of Lothlorien. With the reflex of someone who has spent too long in grave danger and is then woken suddenly, he sprang to his feet and glanced around. Lorien lay silent, stretching away onto the twilight, its beauty and splendour only increased by the velvety darkness, which was unlike the darkness of Moria as could be.

On the opposite talan, he could see Haldir and the other Elves alongside the dark lumps that were four sleeping hobbits. The Elves were talking softly but he made no effort to understand their speech. Nearer to him, Gimli's snoring left no doubt that he was asleep and Boromir was restless, as though he was dreaming vividly but the smile on his face showed his dream to be a welcome release from the days horrors. 

Still convinced that something had woken him, he moved around the tree trunk, light as a moonbeam over snow and glanced into the corner of the talan where Aragorn slept. Legolas plainly saw the shadowy shape roll over and moan, clutching at his blanket. Evidently, the Ranger was troubled and given the days events, it was unsurprising. Sighing, Legolas walked over to him.

His heart filled with pity as he saw the tears on Aragorn's face and realised that the man was shivering violently. Stubborn as ever, he had accepted nothing from the Elves and although the night was warm, it was chill after the stifling heat of Moria. 'Aragorn, why do you lay awake? Is anything wrong?' 

Aragorn groaned and stared over the Elf's shoulder as he shifted his weight uncomfortably on the wooden boards. Aided by a stray moonbeam, Legolas saw the dark stain where he had lain a minute ago. 'Are you injured?'

The man nodded, acutely aware of the embarrassment of being exhausted and unwell whilst far from home and with someone else watching him. 'It is nothing, Legolas. An Orc scratch sustained because I did not pay enough heed to the fight. It is neither deep nor painful.'

'Yet you lie awake because of it. And why did you not speak of it earlier?'

'Because I am the leader now. I cannot afford to show weakness. The hobbits must trust in me, for the quest is on a knife-edge and could easily fail. And like I said, it is not painful.'

Legolas regarded him - this strange, often silent man with haunted eyes and a mysterious past who he had come to regard as a friend long before the terror of Moria. Aragorn's face was contorted with his pain and grief, and tears stood in his eyes. Without thought, he embraced the man.

Aragorn moved restlessly, not away from Legolas but rather attempting to turn his face away. The piecing blue eyes of the Elf unsettled him, burning into his heart. He could not remember the last time someone had held him like this, and it was the physical closeness of the Elf which was bothering him the most. Also, he didn't care for the idea of any of the hobbits - or Boromir for that matter, seeing him and Legolas like this.

But no man can be strong forever, and Aragorn could not help the tears in his eyes nor could he prevent them from falling. Legolas held the man in a rough embrace, unsure of what to do but guessing that Aragorn would appreciate his company. The man's head was resting on his shoulder and just for a moment, as Aragorn wept silently, his tears soaking through the Elf's tunic, he wondered what Boromir would think if he could see this. 

'I'm sorry, Aragorn. I'm so sorry about Gandalf.' 

There was no answer from Aragorn, and it was a long time later when he rose unsteadily to his feet and looked at Legolas with reddened eyes. 'I think I ought to see to that Orc scratch now. Go and sleep now or whatever you Elves do. ' 

Moving with a swiftness that belied his appearance and the bloodstains on his cloak, the Ranger climbed down from the talan and walked over to the banks of Nimrodel. Legolas, accustomed to tracking in forests and following other Elves was surprised at how quickly the man moved, and how even when injured he could move printless and silent over uneven ground.

From a distance he watched as Aragorn stripped off his cloak and tunic and began to cleanse the wound across his chest. Legolas could not help laughing at the man's frequent curses, but Aragorn had been raised by the Elves and his senses were keen even when dulled by injury. He fixed the Elf with a glare that even Elrond would have been unable to hold for long.

'I do not require your assistance, Legolas, nor your company. My pain and my grief are my own and I came here to bear it on my own. I know that you just wish to aid me, but if you are a friend of mine, then I wish that you would leave me alone. Please.'

Holding Aragorn's gaze across the clearing, steel grey eyes meeting sky blue ones, Legolas suddenly understood the reason for Aragorn's strange manner. The man was afraid, and it was as simple as that. Afraid of letting down the Fellowship, afraid of not being able to be a good King, and most of all, afraid of the others finding out. He had seen Aragorn worried in the darkness of Moria, held him while he wept for Gandalf and as such, had seen the weaker, human side of Aragorn that others were not permitted to see, and he was uneasy about what Legolas might say to the others. Legolas looked helplessly at the man, letting him know that he understood and then walked off.

The next morning, Legolas and Aragorn walked together, annoyed by the blindfolds but grateful in a way because they could not see the others face. 'Legolas?' He touched the Elf on the arm, suspecting that, like most Elves he would have gone into a dreamland as soon as he become aware of the majesty and beauty of Lothlorien. 

'Yes?'

'Thank you, Prince of Mirkwood.' And Legolas knew that in his way, Aragorn was thanking him for being strong when he was weak, thanking him for sitting alongside him during the night when he was mourning, and most of all for being his companion and his friend. He looked for something to say, and found that there was nothing more to say. He smiled, and Aragorn, guessing his reaction, smiled with him. 

This is complete now - I might write a follow-up one day if I get enough reviews but I've got other stories on the go and there isn't much more I can say about their friendship. Please review this one though.


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